The Moment
by kateandharvey
Summary: Niles and CC have... a moment. That moment causes more trouble for our favorite couple than anyone would ever imagine. CC/Niles
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Wow, has it been a while! I don't know if I want to say "I'm back" but… I'm here for now! Let me know what you think of this one.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Nanny or any of its characters including but not limited to: Fran Fine, Maxwell Sheffield, C.C. Babcock, Niles, Margaret Sheffield, Brighton Sheffield, or Grace Sheffield. The story, however, is my creation from my own imagination and any similarities to any other story are purely coincidence.

**The Moment**

Chapter One

_kateandharvey_

"C'mon, Ny-ules! Ya haveta know! These things don't just happen! Especially with Miss Babcock!" The brunette nanny waved her arms about, overcome with shock and yet still attempting to pry details out of the butler.

"I'm telling you, Mrs. Sheffield… I don't know. It _did _just happen." The butler was still in shock over the previous night's events himself.

_Her neatly manicured hand stroking long fur, the blonde socialite spoke to what appeared an empty room. "Chester… What am I going to do?"_

_ The furry canine's head rose from where it was originally pointed towards a bird on the terrace, and he looked at his master. _

_ He blinked. _

_ She stood and began to pace. "Really, Chester. It just… it just _happened _and now I'm lost on the next steps I should take. This time, it wasn't like the others. It was…" the socialite stopped dead in her tracks and sighed in an uncharacteristically feminine way, "…magical. Beautiful." She turned towards the furry companion, now seated on the floor, "It was _Niles._"_

"Really, ... If I knew what happened I would tell you. The truth is, I don't."

"I got up this early ta get an answer of 'I don't know'?" The nanny's eyes grew as they rolled at her friend.

Niles sighed. "I don't."

"Well, what do ya rememba?" Fran's eyes turned from annoyance to concern, "Were ya drunk?"

Niles shook his head. "No. Neither was she." The butler sighed, "I don't really know how to say it. We weren't sloshed, we were bickering like normal, but…"

_"It was like it was in the air, Chester." Her hands slowly grazed the countertop of the island as her eyebrows furrowed with concern. "It was just… " she sighed yet again, "…in the air."_

"I knocked on her door, and she opened it. She looked horrific, really… A worn old bathrobe with tissues coming from the pockets and falling out of where they were tucked inside… blue striped pajama pants and fuzzy slippers with little bows. Very un-Babcock, you know." He described.

"Well, what did she say?"

The corner of his frown grew just a flinch as he recalled, "I didn't ask for any help."

The nanny's brow furrowed and she took two steps back. "Well geez, I was just tryin' ta help a friend out! I mean, I know ya didn't ask but-"

He shook his head, "-No no. That's what she said."

"Oh." The brunette stepped closer yet again. "Then what?"

_She imitated a British accent, "'Mr. Sheffield mentioned that you were feeling a little under the weather. I figured I'd bring you some soup,' he said." I immediately told him, "It's Saturday."_

"She asked if she should be worried about eating it, if there were substances in it she should be worried about."

_"If it did, he would know me too well, Chester."_

"Then, Mrs. Sheffield, I shrugged and confessed it was me that was worried about her wellbeing."

_"It was so out of character for us, Chester. It didn't follow the program. I got uncomfortable."_

"It slipped out before I could stop it. Luckily, she put us back onto equal footing with a retort."

_"I mentioned that yes, his life would be dull without me around for him to prank." She walked over to stare out the window to the terrace, and the furry canine slowly trotted to stand just to her left, looking out the same window. She shook her head. "He looked me dead in the eye, and-"_

"-told her that wasn't the reason." He shook his head, oblivious to the nanny leaning onto the countertop, eager and hanging on every word.

_"It was like I couldn't keep us on equal terms," her eyes became glossy as she stared out into the bright Sunday morning. "I didn't know what to say, so-"_

"She invited me in. I went without question. The air was-"

_"-magnetic." She turned to glance at the countertop once again. "I walked over to put my soup in the fridge."_

"I followed her into the kitchen, and I leaned against the counter. I watched her place the soup into the refrigerator." At an instant, his eyes perked, and he looked at the nanny as if he was looking _through _her. "I remember being intoxicated by the curve of her neck that peeked out from her robe as she shuffled spoiled food and TV dinners around to fit the container."

_"When I turned around, he was right behind me." Now standing by the counter, she slowly traced her fingertips over it; studying the counter as if it was her lifeline. "I was startled, and I backed up against the island out of reflex."_

The butler swallowed roughly. "I was so different. It was as if-"

_"He had no filter." She looked into her empty penthouse, both hands planted on the countertop. "His eyes were so _sincere_."_

"We were suddenly so close. I gulped." He stared into the kitchen as the nanny's eyes burned holes into the side of his face. He shrugged. "It just slipped out."

_His hand found its way to my face and he breathed, "God, you're beautiful."_

"And then…" He was transfixed, his eyes staring into the empty space of the kitchen.

_She looked at Chester, still sitting by the window, but looking directly at her. "And then…"_

"WHAT? And then _what_?" The nanny cried, throwing her arms onto the kitchen counter.

The butler sighed and his glossy eyes turned towards the brunette. "I kissed her."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Nanny or any of its characters including but not limited to: Fran Fine, Maxwell Sheffield, C.C. Babcock, Niles, Margaret Sheffield, Brighton Sheffield, or Grace Sheffield. The story, however, is my creation from my own imagination and any similarities to any other story are purely coincidence.

**The Moment**

Chapter Two

_kateandharvey_

** The butler sighed and his glossy eyes turned towards the brunette. "I kissed her."**

His lips were soft and gentle. He brushed them over and over her own, his lips pursed closed. She stood, frozen, as his opposite hand came to rest on her hip, both pulling her closer and pushing her against the counter, as if he couldn't get enough. Yet the kiss remained gentle and soft.

The one gentle kiss turned into two, then three, then four, still just a brushing of lips. She stood and let him kiss her. When the fifth kiss began, his hand left her face and joined his other on her hips. He pulled her closer roughly, and a new kiss was born. This was not gentle. This kiss was all passion, fire, and _want_. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she was no longer immobile. Her lips battled with his, and she sighed into his mouth when his tongue emerged.

At the sound of her sigh, he hoisted her effortlessly onto the countertop of the island. Her legs moved on their own accord to wrap around his middle and pull him close to her. She couldn't get enough of him, and he couldn't get enough of her.

They were effectively necking, right there in her kitchen.

The hands on her hips moved to grasp the outside of her thighs, and her legs around him tightened. She could feel his excitement as she pulled him closer.

When they could no longer breathe, they separated, and the fifth kiss ended.

Their eyes met, and he knew immediately what her next move would be.

"Miss Babcock…" He stepped back as she hopped down from the counter, and immediately walked away from him, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes cast downward.

She spun sharply to meet his eyes. "You have to go."

He would've been hurt, but her eyes showed nothing but pure _fear_. He shook his head, and started towards her, "Miss Babcock-"

She shook her head, "-please stop calling me that."

His head tilted, "Stop calling you what? Your name?"

She closed her eyes, visibly trying to find strength inside of herself. "You _have _to go."

He caught up to her with little effort, and held her steadfast by both her upper arms. "Please, just let me-" the pain in her eyes stopped him.

"You _have _to go, Niles." She was terrified. "_Please._"

He nodded, and retreated. "Very well." He started for the door, yet she remained frozen in the same spot.

He turned back to glance at her one more time. "Feel better, Miss Babcock."

He then slid out the door.

* * *

When she entered the backdoor that morning, she was caught off guard when it was the big-haired nanny she came face to face with rather than the sexy butler.

_Sexy? _She asked herself, _No, no, **pesky**. I meant pesky. ...And where is this narration coming from?_

The nasally voice greeted her. "Well hi there Miss Babcock!"

She shook her head, and characteristically pulled her jacket down. "Good morning, Nanny Fine." She started heading for the living room door, but the nanny stopped her.

"What made ya come through the back, Miss Babcock? Ya lookin' for Niles?" Had the socialite turned and looked at the nanny, she would have seen the sparkle in her eyes.

Instead, however, she simply replied, "Why would I go _looking _for that pathetic excuse of a man?" She half-hoped he would be in the kitchen. She could never be the one to take the first step towards something with their... urm... _situation. _Truth be told, the blonde _was _a little disappointed to find the kitchen without him.

"I was not!" She yelled, stomping her feet like a child as she turned to finally face the nanny.

The nanny's brow furrowed, and her eyes searched the blonde's. "Um... What were ya not?"

Realizing she was talking to a voice only she could hear, the blonde shook her head once again. "I was not looking for Niles, of course." She started for the door again, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work to do."

Popping a grape from the bowl on the counter into her mouth, the nanny grinned. "It's Sunday, Miss Babcock. Max is at B's game." Fran was growing increasingly suspicious. "Besides... I thought ya were sick?"

Caught off guard at how discombobulated she was, she shook her head yet again, trying to clear her mind. "I'm feeling much better today, thank you." Her nose stuck higher into the air as her chin jutted out.

Another grape popped into the brunette's mouth as she leaned onto the countertop. "So Niles' soup helped a lot, then?"

_It wasn't the soup, per say..._ "Nanny Fine, while I'm sure it's lovely for you to simply strut around all day, some of us have work to do. Not that concerns you, but I just needed to pick up some paperwork. Good day." She gracefully exited, waving her hand in the air behind her, as the door was left swinging in her wake.

In the office, the curvy blonde was standing in front of the desk, her hands resting as she held on to steady herself. _Well, that went well. _She rolled her eyes at the situation. _I don't even understand what happened, but I... _She was more disappointed than she had originally expected when the butler was not in the kitchen. _Yes! _She jumped, and looked around frantically. _Who are you? _She glanced out onto the terrace, _And how do you know what I'm thinking?  
_The strange voice did not reappear. _You _are _the strange voice! What are you, a narrator of my life? _She glanced out the door to the hallway, looking for the pranking butler. He was no where to be found.

She sighed, "I don't have time for this." She scooped up a few contracts and exited the office, taking the strange voice with her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Nanny or any of its characters including but not limited to: Fran Fine, Maxwell Sheffield, C.C. Babcock, Niles, Margaret Sheffield, Brighton Sheffield, or Grace Sheffield. The story, however, is my creation from my own imagination and any similarities to any other story are purely coincidence.

**The Moment**

Chapter Three

_kateandharvey_

The sweat dripped from the butler's brow as he dug the trowel into the garden soil. _You're too old for this, old man. I do enjoy it, though._He spoke to himself as he patted the soil down around a newly planted daisy. He was admiring that very flower when he heard the side door close tightly, and the telltale click of heels on the brick. It was just a moment before she rounded the corner that he caught a whiff of the signature Chanel No. 5.

"Oh." She was abruptly stopped in her path, as she came face to face with the butler, kneeling on the ground and planting flowers along the back path.

He brushed his hands together, and removed his gloves after the final parcels of soil fell. He braced himself on his knees, and they creaked as he stood, creating a mere moment where it was apparent to her how old he really _was_. "Hello, Miss- er... C... Good morning."

"What's the matter, servant, cat got your tongue?" The line left her lips all on its own. She was too distracted admiring the rustic blue jeans and blue plaid shirt the butler wore. _He looks good out of his suit. Very... domesticated._She shook her head in an attempt to shake the thought.

"No, I'm just following orders." She would've thought he was hurt by the way he delivered the line, but his eyes sparkled just slightly. "I was told not to address you as Miss Babcock, but I was not given an alternative."

She huffed. "Yes, well…" She glanced around the yard, and he had the impression she was nervous.

He waited, and she inwardly flinched as she realized he would be figuratively winning this one. (If Babcocks ever truly lost, that is.)

She sighed. "What exactly are you doing out here?"

"Planting flowers." He was being difficult, and she knew it.

"Hm." Her chin jutted slightly into the air even more so, as she made it clear to him that she was also planning on being difficult. Of course, however, she would never admit that was her plan from the beginning.

He caved. "It's Sunday. What are you doing here, Babcock?"

_I wish I knew _was her thought, but out of her mouth came, "I needed to pick up some contracts. While you may not understand the necessity of diligence to run a successful business, Bell Boy, some of us _do _work around here, you know."

He had a sharp reply, but it was lost on his tongue. He was studying her face, looking for any sign of the fear he had seen the night before. While he was almost positive it wasn't actually _him_ she was afraid of, he had to assure himself. As his eyes darted from one of hers to the other, his brow became increasingly drawn. She didn't appear fearful, but he was unnerved; the usually confident blonde was slowly swaying from side to side, eyes darting around the yard, and her feet slightly shuffling.

"Hello!" He caught the sight of her hand waving its way in front of his face. "Butler-" _Achoo!_ She sneezed mid-sentence, and he recalled how ill she had appeared the prior night.

"How are you feeling, Miss Babcock?"

Her eyes shot to his. "I thought you weren't going to call me that anymore."

He swallowed harshly. "Yes, well…" He repeated her own words from just moments before, "Old habits die hard. Much like-"

She showed him her palm, "-Yes, yes. You can save your remark." She held her hands out, gesturing to the yard all around them. "There's no one out here but us, Niles."

"I know." The way his eyes never left hers and the way he strongly stood, looking like a man who knew what he wanted and was ready to take made her flush red.

Her eyes darted quickly to the brick path, and for a moment he couldn't tell if the redness of her face was caused by arousal, anger, or sadness.

When her eyes met his once again, he knew. If he wasn't hyper aware to the motions and expressions that passed over such a stoic face, he surely would have missed it. Yet because he was Niles, and because she was CC, he knew. This redness had nothing to do with the previous shade. This redness was cause by raw emotion that had been present for longer than a second, and caused by more than a mere line leaving his lips prematurely. This red was caused by a combination of flustered and disappointed. "Niles." She shook her head, her arms crossed in front of her, and if he didn't know any better, he would think she was about to cry by the way her tongue made its way in front of her teeth, under her lip. "Please stop changing the rules."

"Ceec, please stop closing me out." He replied.

Her manicured hand ran through the blonde locks of her hair. She smiled a bitter, near-watery smile, "I can't deal with this right now."

"When can you?" He asked, his head tilting to see her face that was turned downward. "As you already pointed out, it's just us out here." Hesitantly, he raised his hand to her face. "What's going on in that head of yours, and why won't you let me in on it?"

Her mouth parted, preparing to speak, as her glossy eyes met his. "I-"

"Ny-ules!" The backdoor opened, and the couple jumped apart. The click of heels became closer as she spoke, "We're outta milk, honey, when were ya plannin' on runnin' ta the store?" Upon seeing the blonde, the brunette stopped. "Oh, hi Miss Babcock, I didn't know ya were still here."

He didn't give her a chance to respond. The butler sighed, frustrated. "As soon as I'm finished out here, Mrs. Sheffield, I will be running to the store."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I really truly apologize for the delayed update. There's this really awesome thing that sometimes kicks you while you're down and throws everything it can at you all at the same time. Its name is life, and it can be a real sucker. I thank you all for sticking with me. It means more than you will ever know. Anyways… here's your chapter 4. Thank you for all of your kind and encouraging reviews, it really, honestly, keeps me writing! I hope I can make up for the hiatus and also make staying worth your while!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own The Nanny or any of its characters including but not limited to: Fran Fine, Maxwell Sheffield, C.C. Babcock, Niles, Margaret Sheffield, Brighton Sheffield, or Grace Sheffield. The story, however, is my creation from my own imagination and any similarities to any other story are purely coincidence.

**The Moment**

Chapter Four

_kateandharvey_

"I didn't know what to do, Chester. I just… _ran_." The blonde paced the penthouse, talking to the furry friend who lay on the couch, watching her every move. "I can't deal with him right now, things are still too… raw." He blinked in her direction. She sighed, and rolled her eyes, "It didn't affect me, Chester. I do _not _like Niles."

The dog blinked once again, and his head titled.

She caved, and shook her head. "Okay, so when he called me Ceec it _was_ rather enjoyable." She ran a hand through her hair, "I simultaneously wanted to strangle and hug Nanny Fine at the same time today, Chester." She walked to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of water out of the fridge, "The way Niles was looking at me, it made me think-"

The dog jumped quickly off of the couch and ran towards the door, responding territorially to the knocking on the door.

The pajama-clad socialite sighed, and immediately attempted to compose herself as she walked over to the door. She glanced out of the peephole, and saw quite the sight. Immediately, she turned and slammed her back against the door. Eyes wide, she turned to the barking dog at her feet. "Why is _he _here, Chester?" The dog continued to bark, and she closed her eyes when she felt him knock yet again.

"I know you're home, CC!" His voice quieted, "You can't run forever."

She spun around and whipped the door open. "What the hell is wrong with you?" He stalked into the penthouse, pushing past her. He was facing her when she turned from closing the door. He was close. "What are you doing here?"

His eyes traveled from one of hers to the other, trying to get a read on her. "You're here." His reply was simple.

The brow of the blonde furrowed, "Are you _drunk_?"

He threw his arms out, "Of course I'm not bloody _drunk_."

She shook her head, sticking her chin up high. "You're acting irrational and inebriated."

He smiled bitterly, "I'm not high on anything but you."

Her eyes widened slightly. "I don't know what you want from me."

"You know _exactly _what I want from you, Ceec. You're just scared to admit it."

She shook her head, frozen in her spot in front of the door. "I am not scared of anything."

He advanced on her, his eyes narrowing. "Thunderstorms, disappointing your eight-year-old self, heights, and my feelings for you."

She swallowed hard. "You don't have feelings for me."

His hands grasped either side of her face. "You seem to be pretty confused, Love. I'm going to clear it up for you, okay?" Despite the passion behind his words, he was still as gentle as always. She nodded in response. "I have no idea how you feel about me. I barely know how I feel about you. You walked into my life one day and ever since then I haven't been able to so much as look at someone else because all I could picture was the top of the pyramid, the highest of highs, the answer to the essential question: you."

She shivered. He was so close, she could feel his breath on her face and the heat from his hands was burning her face in the best of ways.

"I don't know where we go from here," he continued, "but I know for damn sure that all I want to do right now is make love to you fast and hard until you're brought over the edge time and time again, and then I want to do it again gently and slowly so you understand how cherished you are. I want to see all of your passion and fire released by my hand, and ever since the other afternoon I haven't been able to look at you without thinking about it over and over."

He had more to say, but her lips were on him and her hands were tugging at his shirt. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, and he instantly reacted. His hands were pulling her tight to him from her hips, trying to envelope himself in her. Her back hit the door, and she grunted with the impact. "Are you alright?" He mumbled against her lips, in between kisses.

"Mhm." She replied breathlessly in his ear, her lips trailing down his neck, "Just get your damn shirt off."

He quickly undid the buttons of his white dress shirt, and flung it behind him, onto the couch. His hands had a mind of their own, and he couldn't stop them from shaking at the loss of contact of her body. "You taste amazing." His opened mouth kisses on her neck were driving her wild. She grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face to hers so she could assault him with her mouth yet again. He pulled back and examined her face. Her mouth gasping for air, her eyes burning with desire, and her cheeks flush with arousal. "God, you're beautiful."

He knew it was the wrong thing to say when her eyes turned dark and her hands began to shake. She quickly darted past him, and into the center of the room, trying to put space between them and using the couch as a barrier. She ran her hand through her hair.

He sighed with resignation and disappointment. "Please don't make me leave again."


	5. Month One

**A/N: **I'm so glad you all are enjoying my musings. I'm going to attempt and update AT LEAST once every few days, but I can't promise anything at this point. I apologize again for the hit and miss updates, but I really appreciate you all sticking with me. For that, here is your next chapter. PLEASE DON'T HATE ME. You will get your answers soon. I promise you it will be worth it.

**The Moment**

Chapter Five

_kateandharvey_

_He sighed with resignation and disappointment. "Please don't make me leave again."_

_12 months earlier…_

"You can't honestly tell me you're happy for them. I had to drag your old decrepit body away from Mister Sheffield just before the ceremony began!" The two drunk blondes sat at a table, enveloped in joy and happiness and yes, satisfaction that Fran and Max were _finally_ married.

"Oh, please." The voluptuous woman swatted her hand in the air, "They have one brain between the two of them. They deserve each other."

For some odd reason, he actually believed her. He leaned closer, setting his glass on the table. "Then why so blue?"

She looked into his eyes, and while her heart flittered just slightly and she suddenly trusted the man who was supposed to be her arch nemesis, she blamed it on the alcohol. "Maxwell was my last hope. He fit all of my, and more importantly, the Babcocks' criteria." Her eyes reminded him of a child who had lost her doll. "Without the back up plan of Maxwell, I'll always be alone."

His head titled as he studied her. She really was just a naïve, soft-hearted woman down below. "Oh, Miss Babcock. You always underestimate yourself. You have a lot to offer a man. You're witty, you're sophisticated, you're beautiful, you're sexy."

She shook her head bitterly, even though her cheeks tinted pink. "You're so drunk, Niles."

He made a shocked face, "Me? Of course I'm not!" It was clear by the tilt of his mouth that he was being facetious. He took a gulp of his drink.

Her eyes narrowed, "How many times have you done that tonight?"

The butler didn't even need to blink. "About twelve. Dance with me." He had already taken her arm and waist, and pulled her along before she could even answer.

"Okay, Butler Boy." She smiled.

* * *

She slowly rubbed her red, heel-beaten feet. "Oh, goodness. I knew these heels were a bad idea." She shook her head, and looked out among the trees. They had danced, danced, and danced. When she could no longer bear to stand on her toes, they both retreated to the cool night air that graced them on the terrace. The quiet late night and the bright city lights lit up in the distance, and she was happy for the rest not only to keep her feet, but as well to escape from all of the celebration in the other room.

"Men should never wear heels." The butler retorted as he watched her, sitting in the iron patio chair, with her dress bunched up around her knees, rubbing her stocking feet. She scoffed at his comment. Whether it was the alcohol or the late night he didn't know, but the words flew out of his mouth. "You look ridiculous."

Her head snapped to see his face. "You were the one dancing with Shamu." Immediately, she went back to trying to get life back into her toes. Before she knew it, she was pulled from her chair, and facing the butler eye to eye.

"Don't say that." His hands were on her arms, and his eyes were burning.

She looked once again into the trees. "You're the one that's always saying it."

"I never mean it." The back of his hand graced her face, and reached out to replace a hair that had fallen from its rightful place throughout the night. CC looked downward, and her cheek had a mind of its own when it turned and nuzzled into his palm.

The magic in the air was nearly suffocating them. Passionate, energized, and scared were among the feelings on the terrace. She relied on him to make the first move, and he didn't disappoint. She knew, from his eyes, what he was going to do before he did it. Her eyes instinctively fluttered closed, and she could feel his presence getting closer to her face. Finally, his lips brushed over hers. She pushed herself into him, making the joining of their lips firmer. It was elegant, it was passionate, it was _tender_.

They slowly broke apart, but his forehead remained glued to hers. "Do you want to get out of here?"

She looked up at him through hooded lids and nodded.

* * *

"Are we too drunk for this?" She mumbled against his shoulder, holding onto him as he carried her into the mansion.

He chuckled, "We're doing this because we are drunk." She shook her head, but to him it felt more like a nuzzle against his shoulder. He slowly walked up the stairs with a firm grip on a very tired and very intoxicated CC Babcock.

"I'm too tired for you to take me to your room tonight, Niles." Her voice was muffled, but he could understand. "I'm not even drunk now. Just tired. And tipsy."

He nodded as they reached the guest room. "As am I, Miss Babcock." He swiftly opened the door and gently set her down on the bed. It wasn't until her ears turned pink and her cheeks and chest flushed red that he realized he had been staring at her body sprawled out on the mattress, and he had a fleeting thought of how hot it was getting in the room.

"Are you going to get me some sheets, Butler Boy?" She broke the spell, and sat up on the bed. She was hopeful that he cool demeanor did nothing to give away the thoughts of him joining her on the bed.

He tried to clear his own thoughts by shaking his head, and then he nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. I will be right back." A swift exit out of the room, and a quick return. When he walked in, he was not only carrying the fresh sheets for her bed but also a tray with two aspirin and a glass of water. He bent at the waist to set it down on the bedside table, "I figured you may need these." Before he could stand upright again, her hand was on his cheek and he was staring into her eyes.

"You're a good man, Niles." She nodded to herself, "A very, very good man."

He gulped.

She kissed him.

It was the slightest of kisses, much like the one that had occurred just hours before. Tender, warm, like a promise of something that was concrete in its existence but that both refused to acknowledge. She was leaning back and his hands were moving to steady himself on the mattress when he knocked the glass of water directly onto her dress.

"Oh, bloody hell." He mumbled, "I'm sorry, Miss Babcock."

To his surprise, she smiled. "It's alright. We're both a little off kilter tonight." When he didn't move to clean up the water, she sighed. "I will need something to wear, though. I had planned to just sleep off my buzz in my dress. It's so cold in here that sleeping without it just isn't an option."

He tried not to picture her _without her dress_ but that brought up pictures of her _without anything_ and he knew he would need to get her something to wear, but that in turn made him think of her _in something of his_. For what seemed like the millionth time that night, he shook his head to try and replace his marbles. "I'll fetch you something to wear."

When he returned to the room with a red and white robe, she couldn't help but chuckle. "That's what you found?"

"It was that or something of Miss Fine- Mrs. Sheffield's." He smiled softly and rubbed his finger over the white collar. "She had actually picked this up for me for Christmas last year. I only wore it once. It's soft, and it should do a fair enough job keeping you warm."

Her eyes darted in a way that made him feel she was being mischievous. When they sparkled he knew he was right. "And when I get cold I can just sneak into your room, right? To find the hot water bottle?"

He emitted a deep, rich laugh as he began to put the sheets on the bed. "If you do that, be sure not to wake me. The image of you in that robe could cause me a nightmare."

She flinched. "Because I'm Shamu?"

He fluffed her pillows. "Because it would be like Santa trying to have his way with me." His eyes twinkled.

She smiled, and emitted a small laugh. "Ho, ho ho."

He turned her sheets down, and smiled back at her. "Goodnight, Miss Babcock."

She watched him leave. "Goodnight, Niles."


End file.
